


The Searing of Flesh

by silent_nyx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description, Hell, Horror, M/M, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Technically theres a major character death since dean is in hell, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_nyx/pseuds/silent_nyx
Summary: Old fic from my no longer used LiveJournal....VERY DARK/EXPLICIT NON CON AND HELL THEMED TORTURE...AKA NO RULES HERE...HORROR THEMESRating: NC-17Words: ~2600Pairing: Alastair/Dean, Dean/DemonWarnings: Dark!fic, explicit non-con, Hell!fic, torture, Hurt!Dean, languageSummary: Hell will break him. The demons will win. He will kneel in submission at Alistair's feet. But until that day comes, Alistair will savor every moment he has with the great Dean Winchester.Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted imagination...It's dark and bloody so heed the warning! Also unbeta'd so errors of all varieties are solely mine! Comments are loved! Enjoy!





	The Searing of Flesh

Dean twisted in his chains as he struggled in vain for the pain to cease; but Alastair’s symphony of agony hadn’t even hit the first chorus yet. His head lolled back, hanging heavily between his shoulders as he looked up at his wrists. Encircled in shackles that glowed a dark red, like molten lava, heated in the unrelenting fire from the depths of Hell. Blood seeped over the metal and sizzled as it coursed lazily down his arms, pooling in the crease of his neck and shoulders and spilling down his sweat slicked back. The warm, tingling sensation was almost blissful in contrast to the excruciating heat. 

Dean didn’t know how long he had been left to hang there, suspended from his bloody wrists, legs spread wide and ankles chained to the floor with the same searing hot shackles that make him want to chew his own arms and legs off. Time didn’t hold much value in the Pit. Dean had even stopped singing ages ago, knowing that each song lasted approximately three minutes but seemed to last hours when coupled with razors sliding under his skin and stripping his bones bare. And sometimes Alastair would sing along, filling in the words Dean missed when he was screaming and gasping for breath, humming along with the tune as he sliced deep into his flesh. It was disconcerting to say the least, and simply ruining Dean’s love of classic rock. Instead he kept it simple, letting his mind wander as he watched the blood from the souls above him flow down the walls of his door less cell. Blood flowed over blood in glistening ribbons of thick crimson. Mesmerizing; even comforting in it’s own way. The continual flow of thick liquid his one constant. 

The blood parted suddenly, seamlessly, without a drop separating itself from the beautiful portrait of pure suffering. Alastair strolled through the curtain of blood and entered Dean’s cell, that same smug smile plastered on his very human face as always. Alastair never came to Dean in his demon form. He preferred to be cool, and controlled; calculated in his technique. Such restraint is nearly impossible when one unleashed themselves from the constraints of the human body. The one and only time Alastair released his true demon self onto Dean he mindlessly tore into him; within seconds, shredding his body to pieces. Dean remembers this particular session with fondness. The brutality was savage but familiar, animalistic in the way the creatures he hunted eons ago took chunks out of his hide. But for Alastair, he wanted to savor Dean. Refusing to waste even one session on a quick dismemberment or unrestrained ravaging of flesh. Alastair preferred to be a little more, meticulous. 

An unwilling whimper escaped Dean's lips when Nathanial followed at Alastair’s heels. Nathanial was Alastair’s current companion. A resident of the darkest places of Hell even longer than Alastair himself. But Nathanial was nothing like him. His soul was so thoroughly corrupted, he could no longer sustain his human form for longer than mere minutes. The flesh stretched over his thick, oily demonic core tearing over different parts of his body and knitting itself back together. Dean watched as Nathanial’s human face split across the cheek, revealing the black, hideous face underneath, the flesh merging once again to cover the monstrosity only to tear apart from the corner of his mouth, down to his collar bone. A pulsating mass of feral evil, waiting to devour Dean’s soul, controlled and loyal only to Alastair’s will. Dean shuttered at what was to come. 

“Good afternoon Dean,” Alastair grinned, taking in the sight of his charge, dark red lines of blood coursing over trembling muscles, exposed flesh glistening and stretched taut, simply aching for the edge of his blade. “Are you enjoying your new chains? I had them made especially for you.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dean huffed out a pained laugh, looking up at the shackles burning into his flesh. They hadn't even begun to cool, and never would, “Red was always a good color for me. Good to know you care.”

Alastair tipped his head back, his laugh filling Dean’s ears like serrated glass, “That’s what I love about you Dean,” he eased forward, Nathanial matching him step for step, “I have to listen to those whimpering, pleading bitches day in and day out, but you, you always bring me a smile don’t you Dean.” The smirk instantly fell from Dean’s face as he glared into the eyes of his very own torture master. Alastair glared right back, coming within inches of his face; challenging, gauging, weighing the resolve his charge possessed today. 

The smirk ghosted across Dean's face once more as he leaned in closer, his words threatening; challenging the resolve of his torturer in turn, “You’ll never break me Alastair. I’ll never say yes. I didn’t sell my soul to become your pet bitch.” He said the last with disdain dripping off his voice, casting his eyes to Nathanial who began circling Dean, waiting to pounce. Nathanial answered with a deep growl, the sound grating out of his throat with a promise of revenge just around the corner. He couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran down his spine. 

Alastair hummed at the display of emotion, of fear, that crossed Dean’s face. That’s why he liked to bring Nathanial to Dean’s cell on occasion. Alastair could make Dean scream and weep in agony, he could make him question his decision to save his little brother from Alastair’s blade, and every now and again, he could make Dean’s eyes glint with desire to pick up the blade himself; just like Nathanial did long ago. Alastair cherished those fleeting moments, but Nathanial; Nathanial could make Dean tremble. It was a wonder to behold. Dean’s defiant, cocky shield slips away almost the second he lays eyes on Alastair’s dreaded companion. 

With a single word, Alastair watches in fascination as that delicious fear seeps through the cracks and envelops Dean whole.

“Nathanial.” 

It’s as simple as that; permission to begin. The color leached from Dean’s face and those fucking defiant eyes turn to liquid fear in an instant. 

Dean’s head snaps to the side, desperately trying to track the demon as he circles behind him. Nathanial reaches out and drags his hand across Dean’s chest, claws digging into his flesh. Scraping ribbons of blood down his ribcage and around to his back. Dean arches in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and biting back a scream. He gasps as the human flesh of Nathanial’s palm splits and sizzles away, leaving only the oily flesh of the demon that burns like acid against his skin. 

Alastair watched as Nathanial’s human flesh split and burnt to ash as it fell off the oily demonic mass; unable to reform as the lust and desire consumed his entire soul. He knelt at Dean’s ass, his gaping mouth watering, claws tearing flesh as he desperately tried to rein in the evil inside him. It was his number one rule when it came to Nathanial; he could do as he pleases as long as he keeps Alastair’s desires in the forefront of his mind. Nathanial may ravage Dean, but slowly, giving Alastair the chance to savor the fear and pain emanating off of his righteous soul in intoxicating waves. 

Dean’s eyes grew impossibly wide, his heart nearly beating out of his chest on the edge of panic as the demon spread his ass wide and began flicking his tongue against his tight hole. “Alastair,” he breathed, his eyes silently pleading, saying what his mouth never could. 

Alastair smiled at Dean, then took his favorite blade and pressed it against his chest. “Scream for me!”

Alastair slipped his blade just under the surface of his skin and dragged it downwards, eyes sparkling as he drank in the sight of Dean throwing his head back, veins bulging in his throat as he choked on a ragged scream; his entire body seizing in pain as Nathanial plunged his tongue deep inside Dean’s ass. 

Dean writhed against his chains, gasping in the putrid, sulfuric breath of his tormentors as he fought not to scream, not to beg for it all to stop. The demon’s tongue stretched his hole, ripping the flesh as he plunged in and out, flicking the forked tip across his prostate with each pass. All the while, Alastair worked his blade. Intricate patterns cut across his chest, down his abs, slicing under the skin and into muscle, filleting it from the bone. Alastair practically vibrated with ecstasy, caressing Dean’s undamaged flesh as if he was admiring a perfect canvass before painting him with his own blood. Alastair leaned in close, tasting the blood that splayed up his jaw and down his neck. Dean tried to care, to fight, to turn away from the lips on his neck and the hand slowly gliding lower down his body.

“Fuck. Don’t,” Dean groaned, as Alastair’s blood slicked hand fisted Dean’s half hard cock, slipping his thumb over the tip of his dick with every tug, viciously twisting his aching balls. Alastair’s other hand continued to slice away at flesh, catching on the bone with a sickening sound that reverberated within Dean’s ears. Nathanial moaned behind him, working his tongue like a piston as he explored the crevasses deep inside Dean’s ass, drinking in the blood that coated his tongue and seeped into his mouth. 

Tears streamed down Dean’s face as he gasped and screamed, his mind tearing at the seams as intense pleasure sparked throughout his entire body, merging with sheer agony, lighting every nerve on fire and coalescing deep in his gut. Nathanial pressed in deep and swirled his tongue around Dean’s prostate in the same moment that Alastair pulled violently on his throbbing cock, swiping his thumb over the swollen head. Dean threw his head back, a piercing scream tearing out of his throat as every muscle in his body seized and convulsed, cum shooting out of his brutalized dick, painting Alastair’s shirt a creamy white and spilling over his hand in hot bursts. 

Dean rolled his head to chest as he rode out the last remnants of his orgasm, exhausted and panting in pained breaths between choking sobs, tears mixing with blood as they ran down his face and dripped onto his heaving chest. Nathanial withdrew his thick, black tongue, humming as he swiped at the blood seeping from the shredded, gaping hole. 

Dean hissed as Nathanial rubbed his acidic hands up and down his skin as he stood, digging into his raw wounds and clawing at the edges of his torn flesh as he grinded himself against Dean’s back. Alastair just stood, inches from Dean’s face, breathing, watching. Drinking in the utter shame that never failed to engulf Dean every time he came off of pain and a demonic tongue in his ass. Dean didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to see that sickening smile on Alastair’s lips and look into those eyes that would tell him this session was far from over. 

“Dean,” Alastair cooed, drawing out his name in a singsong voice, “Say yes Dean. One word and all this is over.”

“Over?” Dean huffed out a broken laugh, “I say yes and I become your little bitch, and you fuck my ass everyday for eternity anyway,” Dean took a deep, ragged breath, a sob catching in his throat as he tried to ignore the hands exploring his ruined flesh, the hard cock pressed firmly against the small of his back, “No thank you.” 

Dean flinched as Alastair grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. “You’re already my little bitch Dean. You just don’t want to admit it. The moment you sold your soul to save baby brother, you were mine,” Alastair leaning in, his hot breath against Dean’s cheek and whispered into his ear, “You’ll learn to love it Dean. I’m giving you an eternity of bliss. Filled with pleasure you can’t even imagine," he shivered when he felt a wet tongue on his ear, gliding down his jaw, "I promise.” 

Dean cursed the spark that flickered deep within his chest, that damned longing for release, for the unbearable pain to finally end. With every session that spark grew stronger, and Alastair knew it. He was winning, and one day, Dean would say yes and beg for Alastair’s cock to be buried deep in his ass. 

Alastair’s heart pounded in his chest, watching the war Dean was silently fighting within himself play out through those gorgeous eyes, a window into his soul. He had never before seen eyes that revealed so much. He used to hate them. To look into that righteous, defiant soul every fucking day made him sick. They would be the first piece of Dean to be sliced out by the tip of his blade. But lately, those eyes revealed something new; a darkness that bled through the light. Now, he loved Dean’s eyes and some day soon, they would reflect back to him the work of his true masterpiece. 

Alastair fondly wiped away the tears that streamed down that beautiful face with his thumb; breathing in a sharp gasp when Dean’s gaze dragged up his own. With that simple gentle touch, the war was over. Dean’s eyes burned with a wall of defiance once again, hiding the dark desires deep inside. The change was so quick that Alastair flinched back at the righteous hate. 

“Never,” Dean whispered through clenched teeth. Alastair’s own eyes darkened, a growl building in the back of his throat, as he seethed at Dean’s choice.

“Nathanial.”

The moment permission was given, Nathanial tightened his grip on Dean’s hips and buried his huge cock deep into his ass. Dean screamed, the acidic flesh filling his shredded ass and ripping him apart with violent thrusts. His eyes shot open when Alastair’s tongue breached his lips and forced it’s way between his clenched teeth and into his mouth. Licking and biting at Dean’s lips as he lifted his blade and sliced through the flesh on Dean’s side. His eyes rolling back in sheer rapture; Alastair didn’t need to see the canvas as he carved, he knew every single inch of Dean Winchester by heart. 

Nathanial pounded his aching cock into that wet, raw heat, thrusting his hips up hard and fast as he gripped Dean’s body and pressed against him with frantic, rabid need. A groan gurgled out his throat when Dean jerked violently, Nathanial’s huge hands crushing his hip bones and snapping his ribs one by one. His hot, sulfuric breath coming in rapid bursts across the back of Dean’s neck as he fucked into him with all the strength he possessed. Dean fought to scream, to breathe around the tongue shoved into his mouth, twisting his wrists and ankles against the searing heat of his shackles, his ribs grinding against each other as he arched away from the burning pain shooting up his ass and through his entire body. Blood, sweat and tears seeped out of him, desperately attempting to release even a fraction of the pain. 

Dean sobbed and whimpered in horror when the tongue in his mouth split apart and burned to ash; a thick, oily smooth tongue plunging down his throat in it’s place. Alastair couldn’t resist any longer. Dean was driving him to madness; the desperate sounds he was making, the feel of his blood and flesh slipping between his fingers, the taste of him. Alastair allowed himself this one freedom from his human constraints; filling Dean’s mouth with the taste of his demonic flesh and acidic saliva. Plunging deep inside, he explored that fucking gorgeous mouth and slid his long tongue down that perfect throat, swallowing every one of Dean’s sobs and screams with pure delight. 

Dean may have said no this time around, but his soul was bleeding out, and soon, Dean's ass would be his to own. He would pick up Alastair’s blade and slice into a pleading soul with that shit-eating smile on his face, eyes sparkling and longing for the approval of his master. He’ll kneel humbly at his feet, wrap those perfect lips around his dick and be a good little bitch as Alastair fucked into his mouth. But for now, he’ll settle for making this session last for days.


End file.
